


Take Me to Church (I'll Worship Like a Dog)

by MeBeShe



Series: Love Me Dead [1]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: ALL THE ANGST, After care, Angst, Couch Sex, Dirty Talk, F/M, Light Bondage, OTP feeeeeeeels, Season 1 Finale Spoilers, mid-season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 05:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3476336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeBeShe/pseuds/MeBeShe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>　She was his angel, his salvation, his beautiful goddess who rolled her r’s when she spoke and was growing into a woman with whiskey in her veins and steel in her back. And maybe, one day, if he ever pulled away from the Keatings, he would be worthy of her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me to Church (I'll Worship Like a Dog)

　　“Oh God.” Frank gasped out into her neck. Laurel’s arms were bound behind her with one of his ties, and his hands were wide around her hips, guiding her onto him. His mouth sucked a light mark into her neck, shuddering at her wet heat around him. He wanted to mark her, to leave a string of bruises on her neck, to let the whole world know that Laurel was his, not that Legal Aid moron’s. 

　　Frank knew what he was doing was wrong. Laurel was bright and beautiful and pure, viewing the world through hope-tinted glasses. The young girl in his lap shone with optimism and light and beauty, and Frank didn’t deserve her. He was dark and tainted and horrible, with blood on his hands. Blood not just from Lila and her unborn child, but the blood of other innocents. Blood from the people he had bullied and beaten and murdered, blood that had led him to the Keatings, blood that had made him their dog.  
　　  
　　He drove his length deeper into her, making her gasp and shudder on top of him. He brought his thumb down to her clit and was rewarded with a full-chested moan as she tightened around him. Laurel was a quiet person in the bedroom, making Frank have to pay attention to her body. To make him pay attention to the flush that crept up over her neck and chest, the way her brows would knit together and her mouth fall open into a small little ‘o’, making him relish every full-throated sound he pulled from her.  
　　  
　　She was beautiful in every way, good and pure and sweet and gentle, and every time Frank touched her he felt the tarnish that coated him slowly wiped away. But the thing is with tarnish is that it spreads, and ruins everything that comes into contact with it.  
　　  
　　That’s why her hands were bound, to keep her from touching him, to keep that tarnish from marring the light that came from her. She was his hope, his salvation, and even though he knew it was irrational, maybe, if her arms were bound and she couldn’t touch him, he could keep that light from being snuffed out.  
　　  
　　His name tumbled out of her mouth in a half-whispered gasp and he shuddered, feeling his own peak draw ever closer at the sound of his name falling from her angelic lips.  
　　  
　　Because she was an angel; an angel of justice and of the law, and he had gotten the privilege of watching her grow from a shy wallflower to a woman who would call out Annalise’s bullshit and tamper with a jury so a young boy could walk free. 

　　“That’s it Laurel. I want to watch you.” He gasped out, shuddering as his thumb worked her clit in circles. “Give in, I want to watch you, I want to hear you, I want to feel you, God you’re so beautiful.” He filled his mouth with her earlobe before he could say anything more. He could feel his orgasm boiling under the surface of his skin, but he would see her come first. One sharp nip to her ear was all it took, Laurel freezing and gasping, her inner muscles fluttering around him a low whine escaping her lungs.  
　　  
　　At that sound, the sound of her pleasure he gave into his own needs, groaning as he spilled inside of her, hips slowly thrusting to a stop. His shaking hands came up to cup her face and he kissed her, slowly and gently. Her lips were soft on his, speaking of salvation and things best left for churches and stained glass. He pulled her to his chest as one hand undid the knot on her arms and his other hand came down to rub at her wrists.  
　　  
　　She was his angel, his salvation, his beautiful goddess who rolled her r’s when she spoke and was growing into a woman with whiskey in her veins and steel in her back.  
　　  
　　And maybe, one day, if he ever pulled away from the Keatings, he would be worthy of her.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this show has dragged me into Flaurel hell, and if I'm going, you're all coming with me. I have nothing but feels after that finale, and let me tell you, this is just the fucking start. I'm watching the whole series again, so expect this to become a series.


End file.
